Royal Company
by EiswolfZero
Summary: Fandral and Loki are left behind due to some injuries sustained in their last adventure and Fandral is bored. Fandral/Loki Pre-Relationship. Oneshot


_**Here's me dipping my toes into another fandom. And another use of tense.**_

_**I'm in this funk where I don't really write because I know as soon as I write it down its gonna suck. And I also wanted to see if I could write in present tense, so I guess if this seems like suuuper amateur like, then that's because of that.**_

_**Also super indulgent. I had this idea for a larger story but yeah, not gonna write that eh.**_

_**Enjoy!**_

* * *

"There you are. My Prince." The last part is hastily added after a short period of time, not that Loki is going to comment on it. Thor's friends have long since stopped being properly polite, so he hardly notices when it isn't there.

What's more surprising is the fact that Fandral is seeking him out. In the library. He is slightly impressed that the other could even find the way.

"I knew you were hurt," Loki starts but doesn't look up from his book. "But I didn't know your head got hurt too. Thor isn't here." And neither are the others, making the both of them those that got left behind due to injuries (Fandral has injuries, magical exhaustion is hardly what Loki would call a problem but apparently it is) sustained in their last… adventure.

A charming laugh spills out of Fandral as he leans against a bookshelf. "Oh I know. Which is why I'm here. I need company."

Slowly Loki lifts his head, one eyebrow carefully raised before he returns to his book, his voice dry. "I'm hardly your type."

The first thing Fandral should probably say is that he didn't mean it like that, along with some placating sentences that he would never demand such a thing from his royalty. But what really bursts out of him is "I have a type? I thought I was loving for Love's sake."

"Oh no, you have a type. You like to try things, of course, but you always go back to the same type of women."

Fandral still isn't being granted Loki's full attention and maybe that's for the better. He hardly gets flustered but the thought of his prince having seen right through him. And to have determined his taste in women when he himself didn't even know…

"And what, my Prince," he adds to placate the younger man, "are those types?"

Loki's hand stills before he continues to flip the page. He hasn't considered being asked to prove his claim.

It might have been one of the Tricksters tricks then.

"Ah I see, you jest," Fandral smiles brightly, amused by their exchange. It really had been a great idea to seek out some royal company.

The book is suddenly slammed shut. "I do not." Loki sounds annoyed as he stands up, the book being placed to the side. "A demonstration then." And he begins to flicker, his body changing to something else.

Fandral is more concerned about the sudden use of magic, which he is sure enough is not allowed at the moment. "The healers said you were not to use your seidr!" And to use them to proof something to him? He could already see the dungeons in front of him.

"Don't be so dense. If you knew anything about it then you would know that shape-shifting hardly counts. An illusion has to be maintained but a changed body just is." The prince rolls his eyes as his voice changes to something more feminine but still carries strength.

"Your first type, Fandral the Dashing," Loki mocks and courtesies before putting both of her hands on her full breasts. "A fat bosomed woman, one that might be able to lift you up. No?"

Loki's new form fills out nicely, the woman before Fandral an easy thing on the eyes. Big breasts and a full bottom, some fat around the middle to hold onto. Curly, light brown hair framing her round face. The only thing that gives Loki away now are her eyes. And the royal clothes that she didn't bother to change. (Maybe Loki was tired after all)

"Do I not beckon you to come closer?" Loki barely moves and still looks as if she is posing for Fandral. But he dares not to move, lest he put a hand on the prince in an improper way and gets told off. The mockery would not be worth it.

Yet his fingers twitch.

The Trickster sees that too - curse her attentiveness - and swirls around, her body losing volume, her hair turning black again, getting longer until it hugs her back in gentle waves. The change is over before Loki is done with her swirl. She's smaller now, fragile. A cute little thing with an elegant face.

If Fandral stares long enough he can see that it's just Loki as a woman, only daintier than usual.

"Or something cute but married. The thrill of danger," she says in a lovely voice and courtesies again, a small silver band glinting on her ring finger, part of her hair falling over her shoulder. She would be lovely and shy, where there not Loki's mischievous eyes.

At least the prince seems to be enjoying herself.

Not one to be outdone however, Fandral only could take so much mockery in a row, he steps forward and bows properly before offering a hand. "Would you like to dance?"

To his surprise the offered hand gets taken and both step closer to assume the correct positions. He feels like as if his hands might just burst into flames as soon as he touches the prince.

It was one thing on the battle field or in a friendly jest but this…

"You don't deny it then?" Loki asks and Fandral doesn't mind to indulge his prince and just smiles.

"How could I, when proof stares me right in the face? No, I don't deny it." With that he starts to move in a slow sway despite there being no music.

Loki follows his lead with ease and soon enough they use the entire space in front of the couch between the bookshelves for a slow dance, their feet light on the ground.

He feels as if he should say something. Something witty or placating but Loki's body is pliant underneath his arms and the Trickster even more charming than usual. Though he is not fooled, it's not because of the face she chose to wear.

But before he can decide on a way to make a fool of himself Loki speaks up, putting another level to their little...game.

"I worry. What if my husband comes home soon?" She asks with worry in her voice and bites her lips.

For a moment Fandral is not sure if he's actually awake or dreaming, for he was surely still asleep. Loki would not engage him in silly role play, would she?

The manor of her gaze changes then and he hastily scrambles for a reply.

"Fear not, my darling. Is it not the thrill that brought you to me?" It is far easier than he thought to fall into the illusion of their play than he feared and his easy smile joins the endearment as easily as he twirls her around before pulling her close again.

She nods as her hair settles on her back again and her fingers start playing with the leather strap on Fandral's shoulder, once they resume their slow dancing.

It's oddly distracting.

"We will hear soon enough when your husband approaches," Fandral continues, nodding at her as their dance slowly comes to a halt, leaving them standing in the middle of their little hideout in the library.

Loki's face sports the loveliest blush and Fandral can't tell if it is so because Loki willed it to be there or if he is actually blushing. Or slightly out of breath.

She looks up at him through her lashes before taking a step back and bowing her head. Something he doesn't protest to since the sight of her doing so makes him forget why this was an uncommon thing.

They are still holding hands, neither of them has let go yet and Fandral wonders if the play is over. If there had been a play or if he has been played in the end.

He finds that he wouldn't mind if he was, for he got to discover this oddly playful side of Loki in the end.

"Oh but I hear him, my dear Fandral." And a shiver runs down Fandral's back and it's not due to the voice but to its owner. "I must go now."

She turns and pulls away at the same time and he let's go, only to follow for one step while she gathers her book, unaware of this.

Silence reigns as she makes her way to the aisle between the bookshelves that lead out of the library, though she stops as she reaches the shelf and briefly glances back. There is a smile on her face before she doesn't pay him any more attention and vanishes between the books, her form changing back to what Fandral knew was her usual form.

He takes another five minutes before he too leaves. This truly had been one of his best ideas of yet, to go to Loki for company.

And maybe he discovered another type along the way.


End file.
